


tailpipes & woe

by bellafarallones



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Breakups, M/M, the M rating is for crowley/pollution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 16:52:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6337378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellafarallones/pseuds/bellafarallones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley breaks up with Pollution for his incessant jokes about how angels are always too high-and-mighty to love you back. Aziraphale takes the opportunity to prove that Pollution was wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	tailpipes & woe

The Bentley pulled away fast, leaving Aziraphale coughing in a thick cloud of exhaust outside the bookshop. It was these old cars, designed before anyone gave a damn about the atmosphere. Maybe that was why Crowley liked it. 

Crowley inclined his head slightly to acknowledge that someone had materialized in the seat Aziraphale had vacated only moments before. 

“You spend too much time with that angel.”

“You jealous?”

“Of course not. I know he’s not half as pretty as I am, and he’d never deign to be with a demon anyway. The wait was unbearable, though.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to keep an immortal being like yourself waiting.” Crowley let his sunglasses slide a little way down his nose so he could admire the smoggy sunset in its full glory.

“I trust you’ll make my waiting worth it?”

Crowley ran one finger across the dashboard, leaving a clear streak in the grime that had accumulated since Pollution appeared. Then he put his finger in his mouth and slowly sucked it clean, glad he couldn’t catch anything Pollution had to spread. “You bet I will.”

 

They ground on each other against the wall of Crowley's bedroom, Crowley hissing a little and writhing as Pollution’s hand slipped inside his pants. Pollution’s kisses were bitter, but he was always slick and wanton, feverishly warm to the touch.

In a haze of lust, Crowley pushed Pollution backwards onto the big bed, both half undressed. Crowley ended up on the bottom with the mattress at his chest and Pollution’s cock at his back. They never looked at each other as they fucked. Crowley’s imagination was always elsewhere, and Pollution was essentially using Crowley’s body to masturbate anyway. 

 

Crowley awoke in the morning to the sound of someone pounding on his apartment door. “Crowley? Crowley, are you in there?”

He hissed. “Pollution. Pollution!” He leaned across the bed to shake Pollution’s skinny shoulder. “Can you vanish or something? Aziraphale’s at the door.”

Pollution rolled over to face him and blinked slowly. “Why, darling?” Sharp teeth filled his sleepy grin. “Are you ashamed of me? I want to meet your angel friend.”

“Fuck! Fine.” Crowley leapt out of bed, materializing clothing around him, and cracked open the door. “Sorry! Yes? What is it?

“I just found- uhhh...” Aziraphale’s voice trailed off and his face went a bit pink as Crowley felt Pollution’s lips on the base of his neck. Pollution hadn’t bothered to dress, of course. 

“For Satan’s sake, Pollution, make yourself decent! Aziraphale, this is Pollution. Pollution, Aziraphale.”

“Hello, Aziraphale. I’ve heard so much about you, it’s nice to meet you at last… in the flesh.”

“You’re the Pollution?” Aziraphale drew himself up to his fullest height and eyed Pollution warily.

“The one and only.” Pollution wrapped his arms around Crowley’s chest from behind.

They stared at each other for a moment. “I’ll… come back later. It wasn’t anything important, anyway.”

Pollution reached forwards and pushed the door closed.

Crowley disentangled himself and turned to face Pollution. “What was that? You never do that kind of thing when we’re alone. ”

“I was trying to make him jealous. He doesn’t care nearly as much about you as you’d like… or as you care about him.”

“Shut up.” Crowley’s foolish crush on the angel may have been obvious, but that didn’t mean it was acceptable for Pollution to point it out. “Get out of my house, you disgusting-”

Pollution crushed his lips against Crowley’s, silencing him. “You’ll be back,” he murmured. “When your perfect angel inevitably rejects you.” 

Then Pollution vanished and Crowley was left blushing and alone.

Outside, Aziraphale licked his lips and balled his soft hands into fists. He had no claim to the demon, but something possessive clawed inside his stomach. He wanted his arms around Crowley, not those of a soulless being like Pollution.

 

Crowley resisted the urge to go to the bookshop until almost dinnertime. The image of Aziraphale's face, the flash of feeling in his eyes as Pollution's hands moved possessively over Crowley's chest, played in his mind on loop. 

He let himself in and found Aziraphale standing in front of the stove in the back room.

“Good evening, Crowley. I hope I wasn’t interrupting too much earlier.”

“Oh, no, it’s fine. Pollution was being kind of a dick. What were you going to say?”

"I was going to ask you out to dinner, but now that I've put the soup on there's no point. If you want to stay, it'll be done in about twenty minutes."

"Of course. It smells heavenly, Angel."

Aziraphale sat at one end of the sofa and put his feet up on the coffee table. After a moment's hesitation, Crowley sprawled across it, with his head in Aziraphale's lap. His sunglasses reflected Aziraphale's face back at him when he looked down.

“You never said you were dating Pollution,” said Aziraphale.

“I'm not anymore; I kicked him out right after you left. It was never serious, anyway. He turned up every so often and we... well, you know. Demon-on-demon human sin. He's not easy to talk to, not like you are. Doesn't have much personality.”

Aziraphale failed to repress the surge of pride Crowley's comment sparked. That's right, Pollution wasn't as good as he was. “Your breakup didn’t have anything to do with me, I hope?”

“It sort of did. I got sick of him teasing me about you. ‘Angels, they’re all too high and mighty. They’ll never love you back.’”

“You don’t think that’s true, do you?” Aziraphale searched the parts of Crowley’s face not covered by sunglasses. His perfect cheekbones were flushed, his lips slightly parted.

“I hope it’s not.”

“Is that a request for proof I hear? I might take you up on it.”

Crowley's smile stretched wide and giddy. “Please.” Aziraphale removed his sunglasses to see warm yellow eyes looking intently up at him. Crowley could have sworn he heard the angel’s heart beating triple-time, as though Aziraphale might be as excited as he was. Maybe Pollution had been wrong all along.

Crowley shifted a little, propping himself up obligingly on his elbows, and Aziraphale leaned down and kissed him. For a moment, everything was warmth and light and happiness.

“Well, that was even nicer than I imagined it would be.”

“It gets even better with practice, Angel, if you’re interested.”


End file.
